


Sometimes you don't notice

by Hiirakiri



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Im hyperfixating on this ship so if we're lucky I might actually create more than one (1) content, Im just not there yet, M/M, No smut for now y'all will have to wait, Originally this was a oneshot but not anymore I kinda like working in chapters, Rafe is an emotional dumpster fire as per usual, addendum:, blowjob, handjob, the rating will probably go up later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-28
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2020-09-28 14:03:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20427182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiirakiri/pseuds/Hiirakiri
Summary: “I can’t go to bed knowing you’re this upset, believe it or not, the great Samuel Drake has a conscience and it extends even to the likes of you. So what do you say, drinks in my room?”Fic set during the two years Sam and Rafe spent searching for the Saint Dismas cross and about how they kinda sorta fell in love along the way, without even noticing it.





	1. Chapter 1

There was a seething sort of rage emanating in waves from the younger man as he drove the car, knuckles white from clenching the steering wheel. All Sam could do was watch it happen. There was nothing calming Rafe Adler on this particular night. He hadn’t a clue what had gotten the young heir this peeved, frankly he didn’t even care all that much. More concerned about his own safety, that’s all. The engine purred softly as Rafe accelerated even more, almost as if pouring his anger onto the road ahead of them.

“H-hey! Watch it!” Sam managed to say just before they flew through a red light, “What’s gotten into you?” He tried to put his hand atop the others shoulder, in a sort of calming gesture, but Rafe, almost aggressively, shoved it off. “Dont. Touch. Me.” His voice was cold. The younger man inhaled shakily but the numbers on the speedometer stayed the same. “Alright, alright. Just saying, you need me alive, not dead in a ditch” Sam huffed, “Although, I betcha I’d make a pretty handsome corpse”. He steals a tentative glance to see if his joke had elicited any sort of response but Rafes face was just as cool and collected as before. Hair immaculate, eyes an icy grey and mouth zipped into a tight line. So he sighed and leaned back, might as well enjoy the ride if he couldn’t get off.

They reach their destination in mere minutes all thanks to a somewhat reckless driver, and as they get out said driver slams his door shut, smoke still coming out of his ears. The reception clerks make themselves invisible as the two of them enter the lobby, probably scared to face the fury of a wealthy dick such as the Adler heir. Rafe taps his foot impatiently against the marble floor as they wait for the elevator to arrive and when it does they wordlessly enters. It’s one of the slowest rides in Sams memory and the 2x2 cube isn’t enough space for the two of them in their current state. Not that Sam’s in any specific state at all except tired to his very core. Rafe on the other hand was always in a State of some sort and those around him had best just look out lest they’d face his wrath.

“Hey, listen..” the older man said, trying to start up a conversation again, “I know you’re disappointed we haven’t made more progress but every day can’t be a dance on roses, eh?” The atmosphere around them was chilly at best. “Samuel, I am not disappointed, I’m angry. Learn to tell the difference or learn to keep your mouth shut.” Just as he finishes to state this in a matter-of-fact tone so routine to the man the contraption gives off a ping and the doors open. Rafe’s just about to run off to his own suite before Sam grabs hold of the shorter man's arm, making him stop dead in his tracks. He can feel him freeze, body tense and on high alert “I can’t go to bed knowing you’re this upset, believe it or not, the great Samuel Drake has a conscience and it extends even to the likes of you. So what do you say, drinks in my room?” Time seems almost to stop, at least Sams breathing does, as he waits to see if the other will accept his offer. He’s praying he will. In those few seconds that pass he asks himself why he’s even doing this, why he’s compelled to spend more time with an anger issue timebomb just waiting to explode in his face. He should be running, or at the very least try to find safe cover before the big boom. Alas, he’s standing his ground. Rafe’s face doesn’t show any emotion up until the end, when he exhales slowly through his mouth. “My room in 10, and take a shower, you reek of cigarettes” and with that the heir shakes Sam off and storms off into the opposite direction of where his own room was located.

Had Rafe’s mask not been perfected over the course of several years one might’ve seen the turmoil that was playing out inside of him, but to any on-looker he just looked the same as ever. Which was to say he looked closed off. The door hadn’t even properly closed behind him before he started to strip out of his sweaty clothes, strewing them about in a sort of trail like manner that lead to the shower. He pulled the cranks up and let out an exasperated groan as the scalding water came gushing out, drenching him in seconds. He stood like that for a minute or two, letting the water wash away his anger and his disappointment. Wash away everything that made him into Rafe Adler. Of course he was disappointed, there was just no sense in telling Drake. It would only serve to put a smug smile on the bastards face and he was already conflicted enough regarding him.

He needed him, would never find Avery’s treasure without him, but a couple of months ago he’d come to seek out his company more and more. Outside their work hours, so to speak. Sure, sometimes they’d work so late into the night leaving only the two of them left alone at the various digs and what have you. But even that would not satisfy his strange need for being in the others presence and these feelings were driving him slowly insane. The only positive being that the older Drake brother hadn’t seemed to catch on yet and thank god for that, he’d be absolutely dreadful would he ever find out. No, never wear your heart on your sleeve unless you want to get hurt he’d learned. So he’d buried what little was left years ago and thrown away the map. Nothing more or less to it. There was a sudden knock on the door and he swore quitely, realising the water had made him lose track of time. Or maybe it was the thoughts of Sam that had distracted him.

Minutes passed and Sam started to worry Rafe was playing some sort of sick joke on him, leaving him out here to rot. But just as he was about to turn heel and solemnly head back to his own quarters the fancy door swung open to reveal a slightly shorter man with hair dripping around him. He was clad in a dark t-shirt and sweatpants which was the most dressed down Sam had ever had the pleasure of seeing him be. He thought it rather suited him, the way the loose pants hung off of his hips. He had to blink a couple times just to clear his mind. Try to make his mouth form words and sentences again. Meanwhile Rafe just raised a sceptical eyebrow in reference to his surely dumbfounded expression, rolled his eyes, then retreated into the room. The door left ajar for Sam to follow. And he did.

The insides of Rafes suite compared to his own wasn’t massively different by any account, just enough to make him whistle. “And I thought my bed was big, yours could probably house an entire family” he says with a nod towards said bed, “and their dog” he added with a laugh. The room had a sort of open floor plan. A kitchen at one end, the grand bed at the other and in between them a lounge area. The lounge area was built with the floor slightly lowered compared to the rest of the room with two steps of a staircase to reach it. Against the wall opposite Sam himself a large fireplace was situated and he immediately went for it with the full intent of putting it to good work. He’d never really had the chance to enjoy sitting in front of a lit hearth before and he figured it’d be even better with a strong drink in one hand and good company. Well, as good company as a pissed Adler could be. He tried to catch the younger man’s attention to try and receive permission for lighting the fire but he had his back against him so he just went ahead. _Sometimes it’s better to apologise afterwards rather than ask permission in advance_, he thought to himself. As he placed pieces of logs into it he could hear liquid being poured into glasses behind him and a smile spread across his face. Maybe today would be the day he finally cracked the riddle named Rafe Adler.


	2. Chapter 2

Rafe finished their drinks long before the older man even got an inkling of a fire started. So he sat down in a much too luxurious couch and sipped his wine, eyes following the others every move. He could see the birds playing just around the edge of Sams shirt, the scruff on his face and his hair that seemed suspiciously dry if he’d just been showering. It’s whatever. After months spent together he had gotten used to the smell of cigarettes and the way the smoke clung to the entirety of Drakes closet. Even extending so far as to almost getting fond of it. A thought that made him snort at it’s sheer ridiculousness. 

It was widely known as an off-putting scent and the bearer of it in this scenario was just as widely known for being off-putting himself. It was absurd. Getting attached to such a smell. It was stuck in these thought patterns he got caught hearing Sam chuckle to himself and as he looks up, he’s standing right infront of him. He’s forced to strain his neck as their positions leaves the older man towering above him. The scruffy face adorned with a mischievous smile.

“Thinking of me?” 

“And what would make you think that?”

“Few people have the skill set needed to make you look that angry and I,” Sam says as he puts a theatrical hand to his chest, “Happen to be in possession of just those skills. It’s my cross to bear”

Rafe shoots the man a very unimpressed look but he can see the other has more to say which makes him worried. Samuel Drake never has anything good to say. 

“My cross? Get it? Because of the Dismas cross? C’mon, you gotta admit that’s a little funny, even to you”

He musters up everything inside of himself just to flash an insincere smile at his compatriot. It’s insincerity made so obvious even the taller man would catch on to it. Sadly it just broadens his smile as if this was the exact outcome he’d wanted which is something Rafe just doesn’t get. Why would you want to tell a joke others will despise? What’s the point? 

To be fair it was a common experience for the two of them to go above the others head, Sam and his jokes, and Rafe with his emotional constipation. Sometimes people are far too different to ever truly get each other and it was a fact he’d gotten very used to over the years. Few could understand him. Not that he made it easy, considering how tightly he held onto any other emotion than anger and the fake charm he’d honed. Sometimes people needed to be buttered up rather than beaten down. It was a careful balance but one he’d mastered. 

Anger on the other hand had become a silent friend to him from a young age and he’d quickly come to realise it was the only productive emotion. The others could go screw themselves for all he cared. He didn’t need happiness nor sorrow. They were around to keep people, less successful than him, company. 

The gruffy man didn’t seem all that bothered by his joke being butchered and sank into the plush sofa as well, leaving quite a space between them. As opposed to earlier when he’d been mere inches away from Rafe’s face. The only thing separating them then having been their height difference added to the fact that one was sitting leisurely and one standing tall. So with a sturdy pillow propping him up, one leg thrown over the other and drink in hand he exhaled. The younger man’s watchful eyes on him. 

“How’d you know my drink?” Sam says while twirling the amber coloured liquid around in his crystal glass. The ice cubes tinkling gently. 

“You’d drink anything, as long as it’s strong enough” a sliver of a smile grazes his lips, “Besides, we’re in Scotland, no? Only fitting you be drinking scotch” That small fraction of a smirk grew but it was hardly noticeable. Despite this, he senses a recognition of sorts coming from the older man, as if he saw right through him and his carefully sculpted facade. 

Said older man, being the counterpart to the younger, cracked his face into a beaming smile, flashing teeth and everything. It was almost surreal the way Rafe noticed the lines forming around Sams eyes and mouth. Something inside him, deep deep inside him, found it.. Endearing. 

“You do have humour! Never thought I’d live to see the day” Rafe looks on in bemusement as the other wipes imaginary sweat off his brow with a “phew” sound. He just rolls his eyes at him in return but the smile stays put. 

After that they sit in comfortable silence. The only noises around them being the crackling of firewood and the occasional sip of a drink. Warmth starts slowly to spread around the room. The taller mans face working up a blush from the heat while the shorter has worked one up from his wine. 

“So..” Rafe says as he breaks the silence, clearing his throat before continuing, “Why are you here?”. He avoids the elders eyes. The tense question hanging in the air between them. 

“Well, I’m here because you bailed me outta jail and I’m  _ graciously _ helping you search for Avery’s treasure”. The sound he makes as he sips his wine is one of disappointment, not the answer he’d been looking for. He rolls his head, hearing the bones within creak, before locking yes with Sam. Why does it always have to be so difficult between them? 

“B-but if you mean  _ in here _ tonight-”, he sees the other stumble over his own words as if in a hurry to make them known. The taller of the two draws a raspy breath. It’s unclear if this is because of his poor habits of smoking or if its a product of the sweltering air. Could be both. “You seemed.. agitated earlier. Or well, worse than usual. Now I know we’ve been stuck together for almost two years, and god knows it hasn’t been easy on either of us, but I’d like to believe we’re closer now than when we started. Two years ago? Fifteen years ago? I’m rambling, what I’m trying to say is that I worry about you. Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.” 

Had Rafe been drinking at the moment of those words he would have surely choked. As it was, he was looking directly at a flustered Samuel Drake. Talking about their feelings.. Not one of their usual subjects. The only reaction he could manage was a surprised “huh” slipping out. Now it’s the older mans turn to look away while Rafe tries to read his expression. He can feel his own cheeks heat up peering at the others reddened face.  _ We probably make a pretty pair right about now _ , he sarcastically thinks to himself. For one of the first times in his very successful life he’s having trouble figuring out where to go next. How do you continue a conversation like that?

Awkwardness gets the better of both of them. Silence stretching out the distance, turning the few inches between them into miles. Rafe still trying to catch the others gaze but instead of returning the favour the other stands. Fight or flight they say and it’s clear flight has won this battle. But just as he’s about to pass him by the shorter man grabs hold of a muscular arm, effectively keeping him locked in place.

“Don’t-” he licks his dry lips, hoping desperately not to scare Sam away, not now, “don’t go yet, please?”


	3. Chapter 3

Sam is stopped dead in his tracks. Unsure if it was because of the firm hand on his arm or that hint of desperation that laced Rafes voice. He wants him to stay. The cogs turns inside him as he thinks it over even though the answer was clear from the start. So he turns around to face the other man again, a gentle smile spread across his weathered face as he looks into those icy eyes. He can see anxiety in them and realises that Rafe has probably never had to ask someone to stay before. Yet he swallowed his pride and asked  _ him _ . 

And then it hits him, like a ton of bricks, falling from a ten-story building. God Dammit he’s in love with him. He, Samuel Drake, is utterly and incomprehensibly in love with Rafe Adler. How could he not have noticed up until this point? Was he  _ that _ naive?

Sure, it’s not like Rafe had ever implied to reciprocate those feelings but really, when he thought back upon their months and months together, it somehow made sense? 

They’d comfortably grown into a sort of friendship. Maybe it was Rafe’s first one, most likely was considering how stilted he’d acted at first. But he’d melted. He hadn’t turned into a fussy cuddle-bear, that was for sure, but nonetheless he had melted in his own way. And Sam had been allowed into his closest circle consisting only of the two of them. There’d even been moments in which they’d accidentally touched and neither had pulled away. In retrospect those moments had been almost.. tender.

Never had he ever seen him so much as bat an eye at any woman nor man they’d come across either. No matter how attractive or loaded they’d been. He’d just figured that personal relations, romantic or sexual ones, had no place in Rafe’s life. The man was  _ obsessed _ with finding Avery’s treasure for crying out loud. He barely had time for anything but that. Still, wasn’t he lonely? Sam knew he himself was. 

He’d never planned to leave once he felt that firm grip on his arm. He wasn’t even sure he could’ve even if he’d wanted to. Something unconscious had brought him to invite him for drinks and now it was out in the open. Or well, as open as his own mind was. He certainly wasn’t about to tell Rafe about his discovery. This treasure was his own to keep.

“I won’t go anywhere less you want me to, ‘Kay?” He tries to sound reassuring but the other still seems hesitant. So he sits down again. Closer this time. Their legs are touching and Rafe has yet to let go of his arm so he places a bigger, more calloused one, atop his smaller. A gentle squeeze. Their eyes lock and it’s an electrifying feeling, their hands buzzing between them. 

Sam just looks at him.  _ Really  _ looks at him for the first time and who meets his eyes is perfectly handsome and flawed. But without him noticing the moment slips through his fingers as Rafe jerks his hand back. The space it was occupying suddenly cold. Abandoned. The cold mask slipping back into place over his features. His eyes hardening, lips turning into a thin line and brows furrowing. 

“Now don’t go all friendly on me. Remember your  _ place _ .” Rafe says but despite the words he doesn’t sound harsh. There’s a soft undertone, as if his mask was cracking down on him. 

“You’re the one who asked me to stay” Sam retorts dryly, playing into their little game of charades for just a bit longer.

“To stay, yes, not to .. get intimate”

“I squeezed your hand man, that's intimate to you? Boy you’ve got a lot to learn, once you find out what’s in your pants that’ll really blow your mind” 

Rafe opens his mouth, no doubt to deliver a snide comment, but is interrupted. Sams mind working in overdrive and beyond his control.

“Unless you want me to blow it for you”

It slips out before he can stop himself. Instantly he understands why Rafe so often asks him to “ _ shut up _ ”, it’s the lack of filter wasn’t it. Now he’s a man who's been in his fair share of awkward situations before but he cannot remember such a time where he ever wanted to sink through the ground as much as he does right now. He just blew it, and not in the fun way. God, he really was an idiot. 

Rafe on the other hand opens and closes his mouth completely dumbfounded, similar to a goldfish in its aquarium. That is if the goldfish had been filthy rich and it’s little goldfish friend just insinuated a blowjob. Awkward was an understatement. The real problem though was that although his mind had one idea his body had a  _ whole _ other one. 

He was already pleasantly buzzed from the wine. He hadn’t had much but he was lightweight as hell, which few people knew. Sam was certainly about to find out though and the thought of that alone, slipping through his hard exterior, made his stomach churn. This wasn’t right. This wasn’t the way it was  _ supposed _ to go tonight. He’d thought sure, maybe they’d bond and wonder if it could ever turn into  _ something more _ but then leave it at that but  _ no _ , Sam had to go and ruin everything with his big mouth. And now they were at a checkmate. Unable to make any moves.

Thankfully Sams mouth starts working again and he feels compelled to break the silence. Not because he created it but because he had never been one for silence in the first place. Being Mr Wise-ass was his only coping but something told him this wasn’t salvagble using wit. He wiped away a bead of sweat lingering on his forehead. Downed his entire drink. Then cleared his throat.

“That- .. I didn’t mean to say that I was just trying to be funny and-”

“And failing miserably at it” Rafe concluded for him. And he wasn’t lying. It hadn’t been at all funny. No on the contrary the prospect of the blowing had been quite.. Tempting. 

“No uh you’re right. I mean you’re my boss for crying out loud, not that you can’t blow your boss, I know many a friend who’s done just that! But I shouldn’t-.. Er, wouldn't? Blow you? That’d be totally inappropriate and would ruin our professional relationship”.

Rafe, fully knowing he’s perfectly inept at conveying feelings does what he does best. Sending out the right signals in a way that his pride will allow and his emotional range can grasp. He plays the arrogant jerk and _ by God _ does he play his part well. 

He starts by rolling his shoulders, sighing softly and stretching out his body. If he’d be putting on a show he might as well do it good. Then looks back at the taller man and snickers. Looking every bit the pompous prick the world took him for. Not to say he wasn’t one, the world was on the right track.

“Oh now Samuel I never took you for a man that backed down on his word?” he purrs softly letting a smirk play at the corner of his mouth. “And it has been a long day and you’re right. I’m, as you yourself said,  _ agitated _ . Surely some unwinding would be good for me. For the both of us” he gives the other a meaning look under hooded eyes. Keeping his gaze locked just a bit longer than necessary.

“I figure you’re  _ mighty _ skilled in the area. Everyone's heard of the famous older Drake and his conquests around the world, a woman-in-every-port kind of guy, no?” He licks his lips, letting Sam sweat for a bit. He’s enjoying this immensely, can’t help himself, it’s in his nature. 

The man right in front of him though paints a different picture. His mouth slightly agape, hanging off of Rafes every word like a starving dog. Leaning forward now, closing the gap between them, his eyes gleaming. 

“So, why don't you.. Blow my world, Mr Drake?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We'll officially be going from "Teen and Up" to Explicit in the next chapter so that'll be exciting for all of us. I don't have a linear plan for this fic but I've gotten such a positive response to the previous chapters, making me happier than I can properly put into words. Thank you to everyone leaving a lil something in the form of kudos or your own words. I appreciate you all. See you at the next chapter!
> 
> /Angel


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me longer than usual! But also,, the chapter itself is over a thousand words longer than a regular one so I hope you can find it in your hearts to forgive me. Now, enjoy this emotional dumpster shitshow go down !!

Rafe sees Sam's face shift rapidly, going through a wide range of emotions as he tries to process what the rich kid just said. Shock, confusion, comprehension, realisation and lastly doubt. It’s quite the show to watch, seeing the lines around his eyes and mouth rise and fall.

The shorter man pulls a hand through his still somewhat damp hair, unsure if he overstepped their invisible boundaries. A stubborn strand still falls into his eyes. Just as he’s about to fix it a hand cups his cheek. It’s big and rough, but gentle, and it’s angling his face towards Sam’s again. It seems the older mans doubts had ultimately disappeared, leaving way for feelings much more suited for the occasion. Feelings best discussed and handled between silky sheets.

Sam can feel the other tense up as he holds his face. The signals sent out are all so contradictory he’s not sure what to make of them. But he’s a man with nothing left to lose. So he slides his hand behind Rafe’s head, gripping onto his hair before pulling him into a kiss. 

It’s hesitant at first. It’s okay, he knows Rafe’s bad with any sort of intimacy, he’ll go slow. If there’s anything he doesn’t want to mess up by talking fast and being unfunny it’s this.  _ This _ matters.

His own lips are chapped and dry against the shorter mans soft ones. He curses himself for never having been the guy to take care of himself. Would it have killed him to use lip balm every once in a while? Never too late to start but too late for this specific kiss.

Once he feels the others guard drop the kiss turns needy, almost desperate. Much like a starving man being offered food. And although he started it it’s certainly the shorter man keeping it going as he keeps pushing his face to Sams, breathless and frantic. It goes on seemingly forever.

Finally they break for air. Sam gasping from the overwhelmingness of it all, closing his eyes. Forced to stop a giddy laughter waiting in his throat because he doesn’t want to ruin this moment by being irreverent.

“I use chapstick, you know. Wouldn’t kill to try it sometime” Rafe huffs. Always the cynical critic.

“Nah, I’d much rather share it between us the way we just did” the taller man says laughing. “Look, already doing wonders, eh?” he continues as he leans in for another kiss. 

He can feel a slight smile against his lips as they get tangled up again. Rafe’s hans holding onto his shoulders forcefully, pressing them closer together. His own hand still at the nape of the others neck, the other snaking around his slender waist. Keeping his eyes open for just a second to steal a glance at his partners flushed face. It’s pretty as a picture. More and more strands escaping from the gel that was added in a hurry. Not that Sam knows that.

“God, you’re hot when your hair’s a mess, should’ve let me see it sooner, would’ve made a move months ago” he manages to breath out between kisses. It only makes Rafe snort. 

“You wouldn’t have dared” is the reply fast to follow. “You’re getting cocky now, sure, but remind me.. Who was it that suggested this in the first place and then got too embarrassed to follow through? Hm?”. The shorter man is smiling smugly. A facial expression that only turns the taller one on even more. It’s like he knows exactly what buttons to push to make him wrap around his finger.

“Not embarrassed anymore” he retorts and with one swift moment slips his hands beneath Rafe’s legs. Then proceeds to lift him up bridal style, the others arms safely secured behind his neck now.

There’s a shocked grunt from the one being carried as he stands up which makes him smile bemusedly before leaning down to kiss his forehead. He almost trips on his way to the bed as he leaves small pecks all over his neck and throat. Their hearts are beating fast. It’s ridiculously obvious the way they’re pressed together. 

He sets himself down carefully, sinking into the soft mattress. Rafe’s quick to change position. With an air of absolute confidence and self-satisfaction the younger man straddles him, puts a firm hand against his chest and pushes him down into the sheets, that typical million-dollar smile twinkling mischievously at him. But this time it’s a genuine one.

Now it’s Sams turn to get some attention as Rafe pulls off both his jeans overshirt and the Fletcher ‘n’ Clarke’s t-shirt, leaving his chest bare. Manicured fingers lightly brush against his abdomen. Three scars beneath the soft fingertips. They’ve faded a bit after all these years but the touch still makes his body shiver, goosebumps rippling across his skin. 

On the other hand of this exchange is Rafe, his feelings conflicted at the sight of the bullet holes. Something almost akin to .. guilt, mixed up with the craving for flesh, making his vision blurry as he zones out. He shakes his head to try and snap out of it. This isn’t the time for retrospection, he did all he could that day fourteen years ago. How was he to know Samuel survived getting shot thrice? Not to mention the drop down from the roof. Frankly it was a miracle he was having the opportunity to get down and dirty with him, the man should be dead six ways from sunday.

“You still with me buddy?”. He’s instantly back there, on the bed, atop Samuel Drake. He takes a deep breath before answering. Collecting his scattered thoughts. He can’t let the other know what he’s thinking of,  _ can’t _ let him think he’s gone soft.

“Never left. Neither did your lower bodily functions I feel..” he sneers as his hand goes from the scars to the raging hard-on in Sams pants, grabbing onto it tightly. The action makes Sam audibly gasp, shock spreading across his handsome face. He never expected Rafe to be quite so.. Hands on in a situation such as this. 

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he counters, relieving the other of his shirt. The skin beneath it is smooth, pulled taut over his toned body. But then he hesitates a moment, smiles, and unzips his own pants rathers than Rafe’s.

“You’re puttin’ me outta business being this snarky, you know. That’s my job” he says feigning offence. “Why don’t you put that pretty little thing to some  _ good  _ use instead?”

No banter is exchanged as they cooperate with the removal of Sams jeans. The boa being constricted in the taller mans underwear made all the more apparent without the thick jean fabric to hold it down. It makes the shorter man swallow as his mouth waters in anticipation. 

God Rafe wanted this so bad. He hadn’t had the pleasure of pleasing someone in ages, hadn’t met someone worthy. But now this was truly.. A situation in need of his utmost attention. 

As he pulled down the last line of defence, also known as Sams boxers, he came face to face with something quite.. grand. Standing proud and erect, already glistening with pre-cum, it greets him. He has to work hard for his face not to crack at the sight of it.  _ It’s big _ . 

Gingerly he wraps his fingers around it, feeling it twitch under his touch. There’s a musky smell in the air. It’s mixes with the scent of fire, the one that’s turned into only embers and memories of logs long lost by now. Taking off their clothing had been pure bliss because between the actual hearth and their chemistry it’d been almost unbearably hot. 

Sam leans up against the headboard of the bed, his head angled upwards and his eyes closed as the other begins jacking him off. 

The slender fingers firmly curled around the base of his length goes slow at first. Gradually working up the speed. He can feel his breathing getting laboured as he almost needs to remind himself to keep sucking down air, too dizzy by the pleasure coursing through his body. 

But just as he starts to feel that familiar buildup inside him he grabs a fistful of Rafes hair. Making him momentarily stop the terrific job he’s doing. 

“What?”

“This isn’t what I asked you to do”. He tries to sound demanding but his head is still spinning.

“Oh I’m sorry, could you elaborate? I must’ve missed something in the translation earlier”. It’s  _ obvious _ Rafe didn’t miss anything. He’s just a piece shit. A piece of shit needing desperately to be put in his place. 

So Sam does the only reasonable thing. He pulls the other man up to his mouth by the scruff of his neck, kissing him hard and  _ oh _ so intensely. Then pulls him away, the jolt making Rafe whine in pain. 

“Now be a good boy and do as I say, huh?”

The sentence alone sends bolts of electricity through Rafes veins, crackling and sparking in every nook and cranny of his body. He wanted,  _ needed _ , to defy him just out of pure pride but felt he couldn’t. His systems running on horny autopilot as he lowered himself down into a comfortable position between the older mans legs. A single deep breath for composure.

He begins by licking up the base of it, from balls to tip, before sucking the head into his mouth. Sam gasps and bucks his hips at the sensation, forcing it in deeper. But it’s nothing Rafe can’t handle. This isn’t his first time at the rodeo and probably not the last, he’s just hoping he can keep the same bull around for a while this time. Maybe that’d be good for him.

It tastes like iron and it only gets stronger the more he bobs his head up and down. His tongue flicking as it goes along. He steals a quick glance up at Sam's dazed face. It’s flushed crimson, lips slightly parted and eyes shut close with his brows furrowed as if in deep concentration. Although Rafes bet was that he was just trying to hold on for dear life. After all, he was _ really _ good at this. 

As if on cue he can feel the cock in his mouth tremble and the body attached to it shudder as he draws him closer to the edge with every masterful lick, kiss and suction he’s applying. 

“Oh.. god Rafe” Sam manages to say between gasps and grunts. “F-fuck, I’m so close”. He feels a hand clutch onto his shoulder, the grip almost painful, as he speeds it up for the grande finale. 

And Sam was right. Only seconds later he jerks his hips up as he comes, effectively filling up the mouth of the ever so gracious man that’s been blowing him these last minutes. Said man thanks the heavens and good genetics for having little to no gag reflex. It’s warm, with a syrupy consistency, as it trickles down his throat, focus purely on swallowing every last bit.  _ Dinner hadn’t been that filling anyway _ . 

He releases Sams, now limp, dick with an audible  _ plop  _ sound and rises so he’s sitting with his legs folded neatly below him. His neck cracks as he rolls it around. Despite the position it had gotten a bit uncomfortable so he was happy to be breathing fresh air and getting to stretch his limbs out. A content sigh escapes his lips. 

Sam just silently watches the other as he turns and twists to loosen up his muscles. He can’t believe this just happened. It’s so far out of the range of likely scenarios that include a wealthy heir, with the temperament of a feral dog, that it almost feels like a dream. And the night isn’t even over. It’s time for him to .. repay the favour, like the original deal had been. So he gets into sitting position, one hand used to prop himself up and the other slithering up Rafes leg and thigh. 

But this is where he hits a figurative wall. He barely even grazes the others leg before it quickly slips away, rich kid bolting out of bed. His face is a picture painted with anxiety, hair hanging into his eyes, as he slips his pants back on and pulls a shirt over his exposed chest. 

It’s a visible change. When the mask slips back on that is. Those eyes he loves grow cold and unseeing, nothing like those hot looks of longing he’d had mere seconds ago. And it’s scary. Getting to meet these two, so wildly different, versions of the man only to be left with the one that’s distant and callous after falling head-over-heels for the one with the ruffled hair and mischievous smile. 

When the shorter man looks up to meet his own worried eyes it’s a different man. Different than the one who only minutes ago did semi-unprofessional things with him between the sheets of the plush hotel bed. He’d tried to keep it down so Sam wouldn’t hear but he’d heard. His own name,  _ Sam _ , moaned in hushed tones while his eyes had been closed.

“Well, Samuel” Rafe says and clears his throat. It sounds like a premonition, a terrible one and it makes the taller man feel suddenly cold. 

“This has been great but I do believe it’s gotten quite late and it’s high time you return to your own suite. Early morning tomorrow so you better be well-rested” he delivers stone-faced while brushing away invisible dust from his spotless shirt.

As the other man doesn’t move he’s forced to give him a stern look to hurry it up. The effects of the alcohol really starting to set in as he got sleepier with every passing second and he needed to be  _ alone _ . His inner working was in absolute turmoil and he couldn’t have someone else there to see it go down. He’d already been more than enough emotional for one evening. No reason for Sam to see him have a meltdown over something so unsightly as.. Having feelings.

And so the taller man, although hesitantly, gets out of bed. First comes boxers, then one pant leg at a time before pulling on his shirt. The jean overshirt he throws casually over one shoulder even though he was anything but casual. What had he done wrong? What part did he fuck up?

Rafe follows him to the door, a gesture neither of them were expecting. He even lingers, leaned against the doorframe as he watches Sam's back disappear down the hallway. When he’s sure the other isn’t returning he heads back inside, closes the door and slides down it, feeling suddenly terrible.

The anxiety that’s been building up inside of him to this point finally culminates into a full blown panic attack, making it hard to breath. He wants someone to hold him down or shake him or do  _ anything  _ to make it stop but he can’t stand the sensation of being touched  _ like that _ and so left without options.  _ Fuck _ .

Being vulnerable is the same as being weak and by god he’s been weak tonight. And somehow he gets this feeling that maybe he’s the loneliest man in the world, so he tries not to choke on his own strained breathing. It’s exhausting. His body shaking and his mind screaming as he regrets every single choice he’s made today.

Sam on the other hand wander aimlessly through the maze like corridors of the swanky hotel, not wanting to go to bed. What happened earlier? What had made Rafe switch like that.. Was it him? He draws both hands through his hair in exasperation, grunting out of frustration. 

But this wasn’t the end. No no no, he’d get to the bottom of this goddamn enigma named Rafe  _ fucking  _ Adler. Starting first thing tomorrow. For now he just needed sleep, some quietness and to be left without any thoughts pounding through his thick skull. It’d had had more than enough of that today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't written proper smut in a long long time so of course I'm rusty but I did my best and as I keep writing I'll be sure to improve. Thank you again for all your comments and kudos, they make my days brighter <3
> 
> /Angel


	5. Chapter 5

So Sam sets up a plan on how to earn Rafes trust. Simple and foolproof. First of all he’s a solid 10/10 so it shouldn’t be that hard. Someone might ask: what’s there to like about him?  _ Heh, everything _ , he thinks to himself. And thus the cat and mouse game begins. 

It starts out ever so innocently. A featherlight touch here, an “accidental” bump in there. Rafes too stubborn to say anything about it but sometimes he’ll growl “get out of my way asshole” or call him a clumsy dick. Nothing Sam can’t take though. The rich kid has certainly said a lot worse in the past.

It’s obvious their relationship changed after that fateful night. Simultaneously having grown closer yet also distant and Sam has a hard time maneuvering the others mood swings. So in some ways he guesses they went back to normal. What with Rafe regularly cussing him out for one thing or another and the next second apathetically discussing their next move with locating Avery's treasure. It’s a balancing act.

So a month flies by with gentle, coincidental, touches. Second month spent pretty much the same. The only real difference being that they’re now in Scotland and it’s freezing all the time. All the more reason to cuddle up and save heat but despite him suggesting this multiple times Rafe had yet to accept the generous offer. The shorter man still being closed off and bitter.  _ Oh well, his loss. _

To streamline the work, making it more effective, Rafe had bought up a couple of barracks. He’d then placed them a short distance away from the cathedral grounds where they served as living quarters for his workers. Had it been expensive? Surely, but the man was made of money, a few living spaces wouldn’t break the bank. Of course he’d gotten an enormous one for himself to live in, located a safe distance away from the employee ones. A man of great privacy he was.

Except.. Sam could barely believe it when news reached him. Except rafe would be sharing this big and exclusive, almost penthouse like barrack, with  _ him _ . All his hard work was finally starting to pay off and that twisted bastard was softening up to him. He’d let out a victorious “ _ yes _ ” under his breath. The fruit of his labour so sweet in his mouth.

He hadn’t been outright rejected in his advances though, to tell the whole truth. It was always these minor occurrences. Blink and you’d miss them. Assuredly they were grand, absolutely grand, gestures in Rafe’s own language. It wasn’t like Sam would ever complain about it either. He could see the other was making in effort, in his own way. 

One time Sam had been stood above a table. Peering intently down onto the maps and other papers strewn across the surface. He’d been so consumed by his work he hadn’t even noticed Rafe entering the room. He  _ did  _ remember his brows being furrowed as he tried to crack the ancient riddle displayed before him. Hell, Avery had been a crafty son of a bitch. 

Anyway, there he’d been and without knowledge the other had snuck up on him. Before he knew it a body was pressed against his own. It was obvious the other were trying to read over his shoulder. The others stubbly chin resting lightly against it. Had Sam not been a calm man it would’ve killed him on the spot, but alas. He kept his cool and bit his tongue, lest any frogs hop out his mouth. What he couldn’t stop himself from though was smiling, the grin stretching from ear to ear. 

“Found anything new or are you just wasting time?” Rafe had said, breaking the comfortable silence. Efficient as ever, even when letting Sam into his personal sphere. It had made him chuckle. 

“Well aren't you a sneaky one, see anything you like? I’ve been here for hours and I haven’t found jackshit.” Sam had answered with a deep sigh. It was true, he’d been there forever without any progress being made. It was starting to drive him nuts.

“Seems this day isn’t working out for either of us, huh? No major breakthroughs out there either” the shorter man said, vaguely gesturing outside with a hand. 

Just then Sam realised the other hand, not used for vague gestures, had snaked its way up underneath his jacket, siphoning heat from him. It was ice cold despite there being a layer of clothing between it and his back. It sent chills down his spine. For multiple reasons. 

“Forgot your gloves today?”

The other blew air through his nose, unamused as always. 

“Misplaced actually, I don’t forget things” he said bitterly “got a problem with that?”. 

Seeing as he didn’t move away he couldn’t have been too bothered. Not even after being called out for his heat-thieving ways. Or maybe he was just too cold too care. Either way Sam couldn’t care less, if there was anything he loved it was being cuddled. Especially with this emotional wreck of a man.  _ God  _ he sure could pick em’, huh?

Eventually the hand with vague gestures had joined its sibling underneath Sams jacket. They’d then spent the next few minutes without any words being spoken. Ultimately, once he’d regained some semblance of colour back into his hands, Rafe had left. The leaving just as undramatic as his entrance. But it had left Sam with a craving for more.

It was small instances like this, sprinkled into their everyday lives, that made Sams heart beat just a little harder. A little more of that and his plan was ready to enter phase two. Sure, their romantic journey had gotten off on the wrong foot but he was mending it and then they were all set for their happy-ever-after. If such a thing was even remotely achievable with a man like Rafe Adler. 

So Sam bided his time. Let another couple weeks pass before one night he knew the time was right.

Since they shared housing nowadays he’d learnt to read the room early on. More like  _ read the heir _ but it was an important start of any day. He would’ve been dead long ago without this knowledge as Rafe’s mornings set the tone for the rest of the day. So, if he woke up on the wrong side, the entire day was ruined. Terrible to work with but at least he was consistent.

The night before Rafe had gone to bed grumbling and cursing under his breath, lashing out at anyone bold enough to approach him. That was the cue for Sam to put his plan in motion. As soon as the other had gone to bed he’d started prepping for the best morning of Rafes life. Probably. Could never be too sure when a person is  _ that  _ filthy rich.

He starts by making dough from scratch, carefully following a recipe, so it can rise during the hours of the night. His plan was simple: Breakfast in bed. No man could enjoy a feast, in the luxury of his own chambers, without releasing endorphins. It was a proven fact. Then quickly checks the inventory, making sure no one else has stolen ingredients, before hitting the hay. His alarm set way too early and with a shiteating grin plastered on his face. He’s out cold in seconds.

When Rafe awakes it’s not from the alarm he set the previous night. No he awakes softly, all by himself, to the smell of freshly baked bread. The scent mostly likely worming it’s way from the kitchen through the ventilation, which is connected throughout the entire barrack. There’s also the unmistaken sounds of kitchen utensils being used, but only faintly. As if the user is being deliberately careful as if not to wake him.  _ Good work at that _ , he thinks sourly. He’d never been a morning person.

He drags himself into an upright position, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. The sounds and smells just don’t make any sense to him and he has this terrible gnawing feeling that whatever it is, he won’t like it. Fortunately he needn't wait long. 

There’s more rustling from outside, still to muffled to make anything specific out, before there’s a knock on his door. Whoever it is doesn’t wait for a reply. It opens just a crack which makes Rafe hastily try and fix his hair. It must look awful and he  _ hates  _ when people see him ahead of visiting hours. 

“You awake?” comes an all too familiar voice from outside. He clenches his jaw, not yet sure of what to make of the intrusion. So he grumbles something noncommittal.

Apparently that’s enough because the door swings open to reveal a sickly complacent Sam with a tray full of food in his hands. It looks to be enough to feed a minor country and the sight makes him frown. There must be a hatch. No one does something like without expecting something in return. 

“Well aren’t you a pretty picture” Sam purs at him as he sets down the tray on the bedside table. A sunshiny smile adorning his dumb face at this ungodly hour.

“What’s all this.. About?” Rafe asks hesitantly, not sure he really wants an honest answer. 

“Breakfast. In bed. So get to munchin’ before it turns cold. I did  _ not  _ slave away in the kitchen for it to go cold so chop chop”. The ‘chop chop’ highlighted by Sam clapping twice, his calloused hands moving quickly. 

“No” he breathes out in exasperation “Well yes, I can see that but why-”

“I even baked bread! Followed the secret family recipe so it tastes exactly the way mama’s used to. Just don’t tell Nathan, alright? He’d kill me if he knew I was sharing it with the enemy. Not to say you’re  _ my  _ enemy. We’re close, sure, but we don’t always see eye to eye you know. Anyway I promise you it won’t disappoint. Give it a shot?” 

It’s clear the other is rambling because he’s nervous. Rafe just doesn’t get it. It’s all a bit too kind and caring by his standards and he wouldn’t trust the taller man with so much as a pet rock. But then Sam goes in for the final blow with the sweetest smile and those soft eyes looking at him. 

“For my sake, please?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to catch the worlds worst flu which made it impossible to write so sorry it took me a while. Either way I'm all better now and thus the chapter is here. Thank you as always for your continued support, I couldn't do it without all your kind words and kudos.
> 
> /Angel


	6. Chapter 6

In the end Rafe finished the entire breakfast. Sam stays through the whole meal. He stands awkwardly next to the bed at first but as his nerves calm down he gingerly sits down on the edge of the bed. He starts talking about the dig prospects around the cathedral just to fill the silence, moves onto to discuss the weather and then just whatever comes to his stuttering mind. Before they know it they’re just having a conversation, like normal people do.

At one point Rafe stabs him with his fork for trying to steal a bite of his sandwich which only seems to make the other man even more playful. He squints at him but the corners of his mouth twitch traitorously, giving away his true emotions. This is a good morning. He’d been served  _ everything  _ on a silver platter his entire life, sure, but that had been out of obligation from the staff he so generously paid. Never had he been spoiled like this without the other party expecting something in return.

That said he wasn’t all too sure Sam didn’t have ulterior motives. Whatever they were he was willing to hear them out. After all, the older man had grown on him, much like a predatory fungus, over the last few weeks. Maybe… maybe he wasn’t so bad.

They continue to talk long after everything's been eaten and done. Rafe tried desperately to keep the food for himself but it proved to be futile. He felt he should have minded the poor manners but felt he couldn’t. It was also made apparent that Sam could barely tear his eyes off of his naked chest, eyes darting all over it, not even trying to maintain eye contact. 

“See something you like?” He scoffed, almost starting to feel self-conscious about the staring.

A shadow of dread flitted across Sam's face before he replaced it with that obnoxious grin he always wore. The man licked his lips and raised an eyebrow in reply, for once not using words to convey his message. And although the quiet was appreciated, instead of his usually explicit language, his mannerism were neither calming nor reassuring. 

“Well, if you have nothing more to add then. This has been lovely, but I find it’s time to get dressed” Rafe says, checking his wristwatch that’s waiting for him at the bedside table. He sighs as he sees the time. “We’ve missed hours of valuable digging-”

“It’s not like  _ we  _ do any of the digging” Sam interrupts him, a glint in his eyes, “You just oversee the whole thing like a total neurotic and I chime in with a funny comment every now and then”. Rafe glowers at him. Both for being cut off and for being a wise-ass.

“As I was saying” He says, regaining control of the conversation “We’ve wasted important time. Now if you’d excuse.. I’d like to get up and ready as soon as possible”. He rolls his shoulders, feeling stiff from sitting in the same position for so long. 

“Don’t let  _ me  _ stop you!” Sam quips, a devilish smile spreading across his gruff features. “We’re both adults. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before” he continues, raising his hands in a gesture feigning innocence. 

Rafe feels blood rushing to his face as he comes face to face with the beartrap Sam just presented to him. If he insists on the other leaving that’d make him seem prude. On the other hand, having him stay and letting him watch as he gets dressed.. Just the thought alone makes him shudder. From anxiety or desire is hard to tell. Possibly a bit of both. But he’s not a man to ignore a challenge so he snorts disdainfully before throwing off the cover and getting up.

Wearing nothing but his navy blue boxer briefs he saunter over to his closet, accepting his fate with a fiery determination. If  _ this  _ is how Sam wants to play it? Oh he’ll play it. So he puts on a show as he stretches his whole body before opening the doors, lettings his hand drift over different articles of clothing. Carefully he picks out a practical, yet stylish, outfit. As he bends over to pick up a pair of shoes there’s a low whistle behind him.

“What was that about us both being adults?” He shouts over his shoulder, voice laced with exasperation. Despite the tone he’s wearing a smug smile. 

This cat and mouse game they’re playing.. He’s enjoying it immensely. Probably because he’s so good at it. But that’s all it could ever be. Some would call that a shame but he just felt uncomfortable by the thought of letting someone in that close to his heart. Not that he could understand why anyone would even want to get close to him, considering how curt he was as a person. The other man would give up soon enough.

Sam wasn’t going to give up, and every second he got to stare at that handsome body his determination grew exponentially. He’d come so far already, being allowed to serve the other breakfast and stay for conversation. It was almost too good to be true. 

He watched him put on socks, pull pants up over chiseled hips and zip them in the front. Lastly a dark shirt to finish it all off. Hands much smaller than his own that vainly brushed off nonexistent dust, making sure to look tiptop for the day. When the other felt done and turned around, with his hands out in an overly dramatic revelation, Sam had to force his jaw up from the ground. 

“Oh, what’s the matter Samuel? Cat got your tongue?” Rafe purred, slowly approaching him.

His movements were deliberate and cat-like, similar to those of an apex predator. The sight made Sam audibly gulp. He could feel his own eyes glaze over, temporarily forgetting about trying to befriend the other before romancing him. His plan, although airtight, had never considered Rafe actually playing along with it. He considered the possibility of it all being a twisted joke, the thought very worrisome, but he was too love-sick to care.

Two cautious hands settle atop his shoulders as the Adler heir straddles him, seated comfortably on his lap. The same hands then make their way into his hair, holding him steady. They lock eyes. Sam looking flustered while Rafe looks confident and content. The latter for once getting a chance to look down on him, as their height difference normally wouldn’t allow it.

Rafe makes the first move as he leans in for a kiss. He gently pulls the others face closer, still gripping his hair tight, guiding their mouths together. It’s a savory little affair. Almost hesitant for an authorative man such as Rafe, but he had never been above softness. A chill goes down his spine as two big hands worm their way around him until they come to rest on his ass. It figured that Sam was an ass man, the thought making him rolls his eyes, not at all surprised by the fact.

He keeps diving in for kiss after kiss, the next one always hungrier than the last. They’re so close he can smell the others cologne on him. The scent deep and musky. It isn’t until the taller man starts moving down, towards his neck, that he cuts him off. Cold turkey and all. He’s rich enough to provide a smirk before getting up, smoothening his shirt in the process. 

“Just what I needed. The coffee wasn’t nearly strong enough, you see, and I felt a pick-me-up was in order. After all, I figured you might be part of that outlandish breakfast, no?”. Never has he looked as self-satisfied as he does in that moment, the arrogance practically dripping off of him. 

“Whichever the case.. I’ll see you at the dig in a bit? Don’t be late, you know how I hate waiting”. And with that he’s gone.

  
Sam’s left behind feeling pent up and tricked.  _ Oh that’s how he wants to play it? Fine, this means war _ , he thinks to himself. Despite the loaded words in his mind he can’t help but to put his fingers to his lips, the sensation of soft lips against his own still lingering. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya, sorry this took so long. My personal life has been a lot lately but I've really missed writing and interacting with all of you who reads my works. If you have the time, please consider leaving me a little comment or a kudo, it would mean the world to me. I will always greatly appreciate any and all feedback as well! Thank you for your continued support and patience. I send you all good vibes in these autumn times.
> 
> /Angel


	7. Chapter 7

As Rafe joins in on their cat and mouse game the ante is upped considerably. Possibly because he’d had Sam wrapped around his pinky for months now, but partly due to his competitive nature. The never-ending search for Libertalia had started taking its toll. They kept drawing a blank and it soured his mood. So this, whatever  _ this  _ was between them, proved just the sort of distraction he desperately craved. 

A couple of days pass after their breakfast in bed. To be fair it was mostly Rafe’s breakfast but Sam sure had enjoyed himself as well. The tension rising by the minute. The waiting having always been the worst part of any game, not knowing when either of them would strike again. They keep it strictly professional during work hours for the sake of sanity, and possibly for the sake of literally anyone else that could catch them. 

Well, mostly professional anyway. Sam finds himself absolutely mesmerised by the sight of the other mans ass. His hands naturally drawn towards it. Frankly it’s an effort keeping them away, an effort that’s not always made. Sometimes when they’re momentarily left alone he’ll give his superiors posterior a friendly smack. He’s beyond saddened when Rafe takes it in good stride, merely raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘That’s it?’. That said, the gratification felt afterwards, makes it more than worth it. 

Rafe, on the other hand, is more subtle with his psychological warfare as he opts for flirting through words rather than actions. Speaking in low tones, almost whispering, leaving Sam breathless. His voice honey as it drips off of his lips. The words spoken aren’t that important. Could be about work, or dinner, or dust on his jacket. It’s the speaking itself. On rare occasions he’s even been known to emphatically squeeze the other man's shoulder. As if to underline his message. 

They both play it cool, biding their time and plotting.But in reality, it’s starting to drive them up the walls. There’s just so much wooing one man can handle. In this particular scenario two men wooing each other with mixed successes. If an outsider were to analyze the situation at hand they’d call it a big mess and go on vacation.

Interestingly enough Rafe is the first to crumble. It had been such a long time since someone got so close to him and it was wearing his walls thin. Although he finds it difficult to process, his mind is soothed by the odd companionship. Being physically close to another person? Exciting yet strangely calming. Balancing a knife’s edge and feeling cockier by the second. There was never anything but success in his mind and he’d end up on top if it so killed him. 

  
  


Alas their days ended mostly the same. They share the sanctity of dinner in their own little home, far away from prying ears and eyes. Rafe sipping wine as Sam sips whatever will give him the most liquid courage. Not that he needs it, not really. It’s just the fact that flirting had always been a natural gift, sex pretty much the same, but romance? Not a chance. It was foreign territory and he felt like a soldier on mine clearance duty, doubting every step.

They’d eat and drink, smoothly dance around the subject of their peculiar relationship. The taller would be witty and laugh loudly. The shorter more prone to dry sarcasm and smug smiles. Time would slip through their fingers like sand and before they knew it it would be time to turn in. Their days were long and tiring so sleep was of the essence. They’d split up in the hall, giving each other one last look before closing their respective doors behind them. Left alone to their pining.

So Sam was more than a little shocked to wake up with a body pressed against his own. Never would he ever have suspected the younger man to be clingy but the other was wrapped tightly around him, arms and legs all tangled up, hair a mess. It was really quite endearing. 

He could hear Rafe’s breathing come out in puffs, those deep set eyes closed and unseeing. He could also feel his own heart breaking into a million pieces just by watching this high and mighty man look so small and vulnerable. It felt almost.. unnatural. Like this wasn’t a sight made for him or anyone else.

The moment was breathless. Literally. He didn’t dare breath too hard less he’d wake him up. Which would be a crime befitting of death by guillotine. Now that he thought about it, Rafe probably had one of those stashed away somewhere as the collector he was. The thought momentarily making him smile at the absurdity.

The shorter man had his head rested on Sams chest. Being so close, the gruff man almost jolted, when the other mumbled something inaudible in his sleep. But, despite his best intentions, his eyes met those of Rafe Adler. They were clouded by sleep and unfocused, yet firmly locked into the soft brown of Sams own. A few blissful moments of unknowing passed before the gaze in the grey eyes solidified and grew colder. The brows above furrowing as if in disbelief of his own choice of sleeping quarters. 

“Good morning sweetheart” Sam said, smiling as sweetly as possibly for an ex-con. 

This only made the other frown in dismay. If because of the pet name or the greeting was hard to tell. The shorter man disentangled himself, retracting all limbs and pushing himself to sit upright. Sam settled for being propped up on an elbow, a stupid grin plastered all over his face. Rafe still looking as if he’d just tasted spoiled milk. 

“Oh please, let’s not start of the day like this” Sam says, gesturing to the others sour expression, “You were sleeping so soundly, can’t we leave it at that?”

Rafe takes his sweet time replying. Starts off by looking away into nothingness, dragging a hand through his hair in a desperate attempt to fix it. Licks his dry lips. Inhales. Exhales. 

“I was cold, miserable and lonely. Nothing more, nothing less. Got it? So don’t assuming anything else”. The words are curt but he’s still looking away, reluctant to face the taller man. 

“I can buy lonely, possibly even the part about being miserable, but cold? Really? That’s the excuse you’re gonna go with?”

“I’m cold by nature, what’s it to you?” Rafe spits out, defensive as always.

“Well, I’m just glad I could be of service, filling the position of temporary radiator. Though If you’d want to make this a permanent thing I’ll have to ask for a raise. I’m not easy, you know” Sam replies with a wink.

“Wipe that self satisfied smirk off your face or I’ll do it for you” Rafe growls, his terrible morning mood making itself known. 

Sam decides, for his own good, to shut up. At least until he’s poured copious amounts of coffee into his grumpy little friend. 

To keep himself busy, as the coffee machine sputters and hacks away in the background, he starts preparing brunch. Nothing quite as fancy as the breakfast in bed he made recently, but it’s alright. Simple toast, with egg and bacon on the side. Even managing to chop fresh vegetables to go with their meals.

Rafe went and poured his own coffee as soon as it was done. Brought the whole pot with him before sitting down in concentrated silence, sipping on the hot beverage, trying to wake up. Usually Sam wouldn’t see this version of him. He was fairly sure there was a whole little coffee shop in the corner of the others room  _ specifically  _ to avoid this kind of confrontation. The Adler heir liked being cool and collected. This was the opposite of that.

The sizzle of the frying pan became a pleasant background noise and it’s not long before the kitchen fills up with the smell of food. The taller mans stomach giving off a loud rumble in response. It’s audible the way Rafe blows air through his nose behind him, unimpressed. 

“So” Sam starts up, finally breaking their silence, “I don’t mind that wake-up call. In fact, I quite liked it. Never been much for sleeping alone. If I wasn’t a courteous man I’d almost tell you to creep into my bed more often”

Rafe has a hard time discerning the others language. To be fair he always did but ever since their little flirtation had began it had only gotten worse. It was impossible to read into anything serious between all the quips and banter. He’d never admit to this of course, but it was frustrating to him. 

“I’m not sure that would be appropriate. After all I am your employer”, the non-committal answer making Sam guffaw. 

“And since when have we cared about the properness of anything? Last I checked we were both just a couple of thieves, digging around where we shouldn’t, aye?”

“Speak for yourself, Samuel” Rafe scowles yet there’s no real edge to the words. As if the scowling was all just for show, despite there being no onlookers. 

There’s a break in conversation as their breakfast is served. Sam does all the work. Putting out the plates and cutlery, pouring them juice and ruffling the others hair. Thankfully it had yet to be gelled but Rafe still stared daggers at him. If looks could kill, as they say. Few things aggravated the heir as much as untidy hair or not making progress. Sam on the other hand found the disheveled look immensely charming.

The silence continues to stretch, comfortably, as they eat. Sam having a hard time focusing on the task at hand, his eyes slipping back to rest on the other man's facial features. Following along the stubbly jawline, going up the cheek and towards the strong profile of his nose. Admiring the deep set eyes and thin lips. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” Rafe says without looking up from the crumbs left on his plate. Absentmindedly twirling a fork in his hand.

When this warrants no other reaction than Sam placing his head in his hands instead, the shorter man sighs loudly and faces him. Soft brown eyes looking back at him longingly. The domestic feeling and tenderness of it all making him anxious. There was years worth of work put into the walls surrounding him. They weren’t about to falter just because of some scruffy man gazing lovingly at him with big brown puppy eyes.

“God you're insufferable. Acting more like a stray begging for scraps rather than a treasure hunter. So will you shut up and  _ stop that _ if I give you a treat?”

Without waiting for a reply, as usual, he quickly rises and strides around the bench. Exasperation exuding from his every pore. But as much as he likes to feel in control there’s nothing he can control when it comes to Sam. The taller man is way ahead of him as he twirls around on his barstool, already waiting for him to arrive.

Rafe tries to keep the upper hand as he initiates a kiss, still he melts like butter when those rough hands slide into his hair, holding his face in place. Their mouths taste of breakfast and sleep.He tries to hold back a moan but his treacherous body spills in anyway, lips softly parted. Sam's body vibrating with a low chuckle, clearly enjoying himself. Truly astounding how a man could be so arousing yet aggravating. 

One of Sams hands stay firmly rooted in Rafe’s hair as the other awkwardly struggle to unbutton his shirt. It goes about as well as imagined. Which is to say it doesn’t. What they do manage is to crease and wrinkle their clothing thoroughly as they grasp and grind at each other. Hot breaths mixing between them as their brains shut out any other emotion than lust. 

They’re rudely interrupted by a knock on the door, followed by unintelligible shouting. A foreman needing permission for something or another, hard to tell through the thick wooden door. They could only pray to a higher power he not simply open it. Finding them exposed like they were, clothes rumpled and faces flushed, would be a disaster.

Rafe swears under his breath before barking out orders. Shouting angrily about ‘being there soon’ and ‘never to disturb him ever again or he’d have his head’. Sam couldn’t stop smiling but didn’t say a word. The timing wasn’t ideal for sweet talk. Instead he settled for watching the shorter man frantically straighten out his clothes and get dressed for the winter cold outside. Cursing every step of the way. His famed temper making it’s daily appearance rather early. 

Once he’s done, jacket and scarf securely fastened, he turns around again. Giving Sam the bliss of his cranky face. Those icy grey meet Sams brown ones and it’s like being shocked. Touching a livewire and feeling the pure electricity run through your veins instead of the usual blood. But then they’re closed. Inhale. Exhale.They open again, a subtly more soft look in them that would be hard to discern had they not been spending so much time together.

“I’m taking you out to dinner tonight and I’d love it if you could at least try and look presentable. Alright? I figure we might need to talk about all of this-” Rafe says, gesturing from himself to Sam.

“See you out there” the Adler heir licks his lips and looks the other man up and down, “and tonight” he continues, before heading out the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imagine Rafe topping? Yeah i'm wheezing to that'd be ridicoulous, come on. Be realistic guys. Anyway I'm back with a new chapter after a long wait, thanks as always for sticking by me. Your support means the world to me <3 I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!
> 
> /Angel


	8. Chapter 8

They did not attend any dinner that night. To everyone's dismay Rafe caught the flu, making him him even more unbearable than usual, which wasn’t a small feat. That said, he was considerably more peaceful when half asleep so there was that. Who said there was no silver lining to the sickness part of “through sickness and health”?

The only one happy about the whole charade was Sam because he got to play the part of the doting nurse. He really wished they’d had a cute apron at hand, just to mess with the shorter man, but alas it was for nought. What he did find was a cabinet above the sink filled to the brim with all kinds of medicine, most stuff labelled with letters he wasn’t even sure spelled proper words. Even so he picked out the cough drops he’d been sent for. The rest quickly slipped his mind.

When he gave a careful knock on the door the only response was a slight moan of misery, so he entered. The room both smelt and felt musty, as if it hadn’t been aired out in years rather than just a couple of hours.

Sunlight striped the walls, the half drawn blinds giving the room only a dim source of light. Rafe looked truly tragic. Bored, bedridden and with a fever blazing hot. Sam made a sizzling noise as he touched the others temple, trying to cheer him up, but Rafe just winced at the attempt. 

“Mother used to kiss my forehead to find out” Rafe said sarcastically, not sick enough to erase his dry wit. 

“That could be arranged” Sam replied as he leaned in to kiss said forehead.

Lips pressed against the others skin he felt the sickly heat radiating off it. He then moved onto cupping the heirs stubbly face, his hand angling it so their lips could meet instead. Rafe’s breathing was shallow and laboured, those cold eyes glazed over, and for once it wasn’t because of lust. 

One butterfly soft kiss after another was placed upon Sams patient, starting out at the mouth but quickly moving around the entire area of his face. Rafe could only frown halfheartedly in response. Not ill enough to hinder his sharp tongue but too weak to object to a million kisses? Maybe it  _ was  _ cause for concern. Although Sam swore anything could be cured with enough liquor and loving. Not necessarily in that order.

When Sam finally pulled himself off the smaller man he could be described as having literal heart eyes. The other sporting a look of affection and contentment, an unusual sight to behold.

“Let’s crack a window open, why don’t we?” Sam suggested, his voice tender.

The air was positively sweltering so it proved sweet bliss to open one of the many windows, letting a cool breeze play in the sheer curtains, the faint scent of spring surrounding him. But as the taller man looked around the room it became glaringly obvious to him how impersonal it was. Big and empty, looking like something straight out of a interior magazine. It had no soul.

On the other hand he couldn’t help but smile as his eyes landed upon a minor coffee shop. A work desk loaded up with a high-tech machines, cutlery, and all kinds of things one might find in a real Coffee making establishment. He would’ve liked to call it cluttered but Rafe was nothing short of a neat-freak and hence it was all in immaculate order and condition. 

“You room feels barren, no wonder you don’t let me in here. Between the high ceiling and the massive windows it’s comparable to a church. Makes me lower my voice just in reverence despite this being the least holy place in Scotland. Probably. Except for the Cathedral we’re camped next to, that is” Sam states, feeling oddly small in the cavernous room.

“So hold me close, you could whisper in my ear” Rafe jokes meekly, the look in his eyes dazed. 

The offer being too tempting to resist Sam sits down at the edge of the bed, his adoring partner in crime before him, and his heart beating a hundred miles per hour. It felt as if a man, wielding a large hammer, had taken up residency in his chest cavity and was working his hardest at knocking his ribs out. Usually it’d be the other way around. With large fists and someone trying to beat them in. 

Gorgeous icy eyes follow his every move and, once he’s comfortable, small hands worm their ways into his own. He gently rolls his thumb over the others wrist, sensing its sick warmth and beating pulse beneath his rough digit, feeling homely there on the bed together. 

They don’t have to speak for their feelings to be clear. Sadly, Sam had never been very good at the whole silence thing, and despite Rafe making it quite clear the romantic feelings were mutual he remained nervous. Nervousness prompted his mouth to move but not necessarily his brain to cooperate.

“You aren’t dehydrated, right? I know you need to drink a lot of water when you’ve got a fever. Not from experience though, my immune system is off the charts so I’ve been fit as a fiddle all my life. I guess it pays to grow up poor and surrounded by other, equally miserable, orphans. It builds character” A weary look entering his eyes as he remembers days long gone.

The other man sighs, the grip of the smaller hands tightening as if to try and ground him back into reality. 

“That’s in the past, Samuel, let it go. I mean  _ look  _ at yourself. You’re an accomplished treasure hunter, intelligent despite ur big mouth, and handsome as hell” Rafe works himself into a frenzy, using his last energy to sit up slightly before falling back onto his pillow.

The last part must’ve slipped out by accident but the heir looks tranquil, despite the slip of tongue. It’s indescribable the way Sams chest clenches at the sight and his entire being screaming for him to do something,  _ anything,  _ to ensure the other won’t close off again. The unusual behaviour putting him on edge rather than calming him down.

So he speaks. Putting all of his might into carefully phrasing himself, worried that the wrong step could make it all blow up around him. 

“Please- ... please don’t shut me out” he says, gaze downturned but his voice steady. 

“I just want to be close to you, no ulterior motives! How can I make you understand that I’m in love with you? Tell me, please. I just want  _ you” _

And where the other might’ve hated showing emotions Samuel Drake wasn’t above admitting the tears in his eyes or his heart breaking into a million pieces. Especially not when the hands holding his withdrew. 

“Sam I- .. I don’t know what to say. Frankly my head is spinning, mostly from my 40 degree fever mind you, but also because.. Just- .. hold me, alright?” Rafe says, his voice small and tired.

So it’s when Sam looks up again he realises Rafe didn’t retract his hands because of disgust or repulsion, it was to pull the covers aside and make room. Room for them both to lay side by side. So naturally he climbs over him, as smoothly as possible, before sliding down and pulling the cover back, except this time they’re two beneath it.

Rafe, walls seemingly lowered by his temperature, wipes the tears off of Sam's face. It’s awkward. Two grown men fumbling with emotions and feelings as if they had never passed the age of puberty. Sam hopes someday it won’t be as difficult for them, sharing a life together, whatever that life proves to be. 

There’s a brief moment of tampering with pillows and blankets as they make themselves comfortable together. Rafe lying in the crook of the others arm, head rested on his shoulder and limbs once again wrapped around Sam body. 

Nimble fingers trace along Sams abdomen, purposefully seeking out the scars left by bullets many years ago, caressing them gingerly. The memories of Panama hitting like a tidal wave, no chance to brace himself before impact. So he grabs Rafes hand, bringing it to his lips instead. Each finger receiving a feather soft kiss before pressing it against his chest, no intention of letting go, his body sleepy and content. 

“Let’s not talk about that today, alright? For now you should focus on getting better, that’s all I ask” Sam says, voice betraying the tenderness he feels.

Rafe offers no objections. He merely blinks drowsily before laying back down, head lolling to the side, hand squeezing back. Not even a full minute passes before the smaller mans breathing deepens, his chest rising and falling rhythmically. Sam follows not long after, his head somewhat woozy and his heart all tangled up but with a smile on his lips that could challenge even the brightest of suns. 

\---

Rafe, still too unsteady to get back to work the next day, begrudgingly calls in sick again. Technically he doesn’t need to do so since he’s in charge of everything, but he refuses to stay in the way of progress, and thus gives the foreman meticulous instructions to follow in his absence. 

It was a calm morning, except for the occasional bomb going off in the distance. Sun falling in through the large windows and beneath the covers they were safe and sound. Nothing felt wrong or out of place. Sam hoped that he’d get to wake up like this for the rest of his life. He swore he’d never ask for anything else, not even treasure. And he wanted to tell Rafe all of this, tell him every little detail about him that made his heart skip a beat and how it thrilled and terrified him simultaneously. 

“Maybe we should talk” Rafe says, breaking the silence. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! I've hit kind of an artblock regarding my writing so now more than ever I'd like some feedback on what you like and/or dislike so I can get a proper chance of improving! Not just for me but for all of you who enjoy this fanfic. I know my updates are slower than in the beginning, life comes inbetween sometimes, but I have every intention of writing many more chapters and properly finishing it. Nothing worse than unfinished fanfics honestly. So thank you once again for reading and I'll see you at the next update <3
> 
> /Angel

**Author's Note:**

> I love writing but rarely do it anymore so any and all feedback is is highly appreciated, comments and kudos alike. Thanks for the read and see you at the next chapter, take care!
> 
> /Angel


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